


Elita: Battle Warrior

by Yung_Nostradamus



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, 進撃の巨人 | Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan (Movies), 進撃！巨人中学校 | Shingeki! Kyojin Chuugakkou | Attack on Titan: Junior High
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Lime, Multi, Other, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 09:18:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19292788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yung_Nostradamus/pseuds/Yung_Nostradamus
Summary: Elita is an amalgamation of sorts, possessing a precocious level of maturity exceptional of her teenage years, while contradictory as it may seem, remaining wonderfully childish and naive in respect to most aspects of life. Highly introverted, intelligent and harbouring a misanthropic streak, she is averse to moving out of her Orphanage home in Shiganshina District following the fall of Wall Maria. Not withstanding, she has no choice but to vacate and her life begins to be riddled with excitement as she settles down into her new life. Along the journey, she meets the mysterious Levi Ackerman, Captain of the Survey Corps and Humanity's Strongest Soldier. Together, they speculate about the mysteries of life as friends, or perhaps as something more. Join Elita and Levi as they expound on adventures of romance, love, life, adventure and friendship with an intellectual and whimsical slant.





	Elita: Battle Warrior

Chapter 1: That Day: The Fall of Wall Maria

I remembered it vividly - that day. On that day, the human race remembered the terror of being dominated by them and the shame of being held captive in a birdcage. It was the year 845, and I was 12. I ran my hands along the length of my hair, idly fiddling with the long, frizzy strands. The overstory of an amalgamation of fir, oak, pine and spruce trees formed a dense canopy overhead. Being late June, the sweltering heat of the sun was especially prominent in the most populous district of Shiganshina. Treacles of sunlight spilled in through the tree branches and leaves, casting dancing shadows across the shallow depths of the creek. The air carried with it the heat of a new season; neither hot nor cold - but tepid and on the ground lay the wetness of a recent drizzle, forming muddy puddles on the grassy banks. Even the most unimpressionable of natures would be aroused by such scenery. 

 

Up above, a fleet of blackbirds glided through the sky, poking holes in the clouds. I envied their freedom. Within these walls, we lived like caged animals. We were pigs for slaughter. The heat of the setting sun cast rays of golden warmth across my face, and lazy as I was, I lay there with my eyes closed, fishing hook and bindle carelessly discarded somewhere in the grass, my mind drifting aimlessly past those concentric walls. My residence was a small government-subsidised orphanage for young children. From my recollection, I had always lived there. I had no memories of my parents, nor was I aware of the existence of any extended family members or blood relatives. At any rate, I didn’t think it was possible for me to be related to anyone inside the walls. From a young age, it became blatantly obvious to me that I was different from everybody else in terms of appearance. My skin, a honey brown complexion, was several shades darker than the rest of the Wall’s populace and my hair did not conform to morphological norms - it was curly, pillowy and very thick. I differed even physiognomically; my lips were thicker, my nose wider and my eyes were pitch dark. Yet, as physically far removed I was, I resembled them in some ways. The oddness of my physical appearance attracted a lot of unwanted attention. Some people would gawk at me as I passed, visibly stunned. The more emboldened ones would make remarks. Someone even asked me if I was burnt. 

 

“How remarkable!”, a man had exclaimed once as I was returning from an errand, “I’ve never seen anyone like that before!”

 

Some people would ask me where I came from. What nonsense, I thought. Where else but the walls? Isn’t that where everybody came from? As everyone knew, one hundred years ago, the entire human race, save for us, was devoured by the titans. The minority reaction of others was more covert, but I could feel the weight of the curiosity in their questioning eyes as they studied me in wonder. I never got used to the alienation and constantly felt ostracised. I had asked Ms. Klara, the orphanage Mother, why I was different. She had looked at me in amazement and frowned.

 

“I don’t know, Elita dear. I’ve never seen anyone else who looks like you. When we found you at the orphanage steps as a baby, you were only left with a book and a drawing. The person in the drawing looked like you.” she said. “I suppose you’re old enough now, I’ll fetch it for you.”

 

On a yellowed and dog-eared piece of thick parchment, a neat and detailed drawing was scribbled. The line-work was tidy and I had assumed the person to be an artist. It was a picture of a woman. She was beautiful and exotic. Her hair was unlike anything I’d seen before - it was puffy and the texture was comparable to something of the sort of cotton. Her features looked slightly like mine - full and her eyes were dark. The body and face of the person in the illustration had been stenciled in to portray a darkness of complexion. The clothing in the drawing was also odd. The woman was robed in a straight peplum dress of a bold, flowered print. A headdress of the same print was situated on her head. I had stared at the drawing in amazement for several minutes, comforted by prospect that there was someone who may have looked like me. I turned over the back of the paper and was surprised to find it signatured; Oluchi. There was also a date. Ms. Klara assumed this to be my birthday. I had never heard a name like it before.

 

“Could this be my mother?” I had asked Ms. Klara.

 

“Maybe,” she looked at me helplessly. “But like I said Elita, we found you alone at the orphanage steps. Perhaps whoever put you there was your parent...and left these things. You keep that drawing, dearie.”

 

“May I have the book?”

 

She appeared sheepish, her face flushing quickly. Even at my young age, I could have deduced that she was hiding something. “When you’re a bit older. I don’t think its contents are appropriate for you. Now, ran a along and interact with the other children.”

 

What could have been in that book that was so inappropriate that I couldn’t see it? I remembered being slightly vexed about the refusal. It was my book. What right did she have to keep it from me? It could have been my mother’s. And interact with the other children. I never interacted with the other children if I could help it. They all looked at me like I was a freak. It was annoying. It was why I was there that day. After I was done with the chores and communal planting at the orphanage, Madame Klara had permitted me to venture out for a little while, not too far from the building. I had then developed a habit of sneaking out to remote locations in my free time to be by myself. I had found a little spot in the hills some distance away from home. There was a creek there that I would often swim and try fishing in and some interesting tree species. I would use earthworms that I found on the banks on the creek as bait, or stale bread crumbs from our meals. There were hardly any leftovers since we had barely enough to eat however, so I often had to resort to worms. I realised that earthworms liked mud and water. I noted this in a journal Madame had given me for my tenth birthday, next to an illustration of an earthworm. I had taken up drawing. I wanted to be as good as Oluchi, for some reason.

 

When Ms. Klara saw me coming back home with an earthworm one day, she screeched at the top of her lungs, “Oh Elita! Put it down...this is not of a lady!” The orphan maids would often complain to the Madame that I was too boyish and needed to take an interest in sewing and cooking like the other orphan girls. I found these tasks very boring. She would sigh and nod in agreement. However, one day I heard her declaring proudly, “Elita is such a smart girl, always doodling in that journal and reading. She’s at the top of her class at the orphanage.” I seemed to amuse her. It made me happy. The Madame was a good person. Everybody loved her and she was the only person I felt truly comfortable with. She didn’t gawk at me in curiosity and ostracise me because I was different, but accepted me and smiled at me with kind eyes. I would also pick flowers and distill and hydrolyse them into fragranced oils for my skin and hair, which seemed to warrant lots of moisture. 

 

Ms. Klara would often complain, “Oh Elita, don’t waste firewood on these oils!”

 

The orphanage workers found my long disappearances very troublesome at first.“Elita, you must not go out without telling us. Imagine what could happened to you!”

 

I stopped for a while after that. However, I never participated in any of the leisure time activities with the other orphans. I would read, or stare aimlessly at the sky from the orphanage steps. The Madame must have thought that this restriction was making me depressed so she reluctantly permitted me to venture out to the rest of the district, oftentimes giving me things to do, like picking up some ingredients for the kitchen.

 

“Don’t stay out late, Elita!” she would call to my retreating form every time she saw me off. And almost every time, I would return at dusk to a livid Madame, who would scold me and give me an earful.

 

I opened my eyes. The sky was slowly starting to darken. Perhaps today I would turn up earlier and surprise Ms. Klara. I looked disappointedly at my fishing rod. I had caught no fish today. It was old and bruised but I loved it - it was one of my few prized possessions. I had scavenged it from a donation crate. All the other kids seemed to be interested in the toys. Fish, like meat, was an expensive delicacy within the walls. So Madame Klara was always pleased when I would bring back small freshwater fish that she could add to the vegetable stews.

 

Begrudgingly, I picked up my belongings and made a move to leave. Before long, I was in one of the bustling village centres of Shiganshina. I tried to ignore the stares as I walked by, instead focusing on the rows of the Tudor-style houses and savouring the palatable taste of foodstuff aromas wafting from wooden stalls set up haphazardly along street corners. A cacophony of chatter played loudly in the air and as I walked, I just tried to enjoy the scenery. Absorbed in my immediate surroundings, I bumped into two men in a dark, empty street alley. One of them towered over me ominously, observing with interest. He then gave the other man a pointed look, “Aye Tom, looks like we got lucky today. I’ve never seen one like this before.”

 

Tom got off the street wall and smacked his lips lasciviously, “I’d say. She’ll fetch a nice price in the Underground. She looks even more exotic than the Asians. What’s your name, girly?”

 

This was trouble. Madame Klara had always warned me about this. She told me that there were thugs who would try to approach me because my different appearance. I made a move to run but the two men blocked my path. 

 

“Now just stay put, little girl. You don’t want to give us any trouble.”

 

The glinting of his eyes in the setting sun was almost more dangerous than the one that bounced off the pocket knife that he began to draw from his pocket. Not knowing what to do, I screamed, “HELP!”

The men rushed towards me. Tom put his hands across my mouth and put me in a headlock. I struggled for air, his muscular arms digging into my neck. The smell of his skin against my nose pierced my nostrils as I tried to wiggle free. My shouts were muffled by his hands and manifested themselves in the form of incoherent screeches. I watched the other man’s retreating figure go towards a shabby-looking carriage with a thick, long rope in hand. Oh no. I tried to think of what to do. Realising my legs were free, I aimed a backwards kick towards Tom with my calf, applying as much force as possible. He howled in pain, “You little bitch!” He had let me go momentarily, so as quickly as I could, I grabbed my discarded bindle and lunged at him, aiming the stick at his head. A loud swat emanated from the impact of skin on wood and a treacle of blood spilled from his temple. In a state of panic, I ran as quickly as I could, away from the alley, with the two men fast at my heels. Before long, I was back in a residential area with a smattering of people who looked at me in alarm, no doubt taken aback at my disheveled appearance. I spotted the two men some distance away at a street corner, looking at me ominously, as if waiting to make their next move. I walked up towards an older-looking woman who was clearly stupefied.

 

“Please ma’m, you have to help me. Two men were trying to hurt me as I was making my way back home.” I explained, pointing in the direction of Tom and the other man. Following the length of my extended arm, I was surprised to notice that they were absent. They were probably hiding or ran away.

 

She eyed me incredulously. She seemed to finally get a hold of herself, despite still gawking at me stupidly, “You should inform the Garrison. Must be one of those good for nothin’ drunkards somewhere.”

Dejected, I made my way aimlessly around town, hoping to find a Garrison soldier. I tried to remember the faces and profiles of my attackers in case they wanted a description but my thoughts are interrupted by the loud ringing of the Shinganshina Bell. It was the signal of the return of the Survey Corps. People had began walking towards the gate, and curious, I followed. Several minutes later, a small congregation had formed near the opening of the gate to greet the Survey Corps. My small stature was dwarfed by the crowd, and I had to stand on a crate to be able to see clearly. I was situated next to an excited-looking boy and a surly, serious girl. I did a double-take at her face. There was something different about her pretty features, like me. Her hair was silky and dark, as were her small eyes, and her skin was porcelain smooth. I contemplated speaking to her but decided against it, keeping my curiousity to myself. 

 

She seemed preoccupied with containing the excitement of the boy next to her. “Eren,” she said blandly, “Calm down.”

“Shit, I can’t see with all the people!” he exclaimed, hurriedly clamoring over a crate next to mine, almost knocking me over in the process.

 

The soft padding of hooves on stone could be heard in the distance and the crowd fell quiet. The sight that greeted the audience was dire, to say the least. The looks on the faces of the returning soldiers were grim and distant. They looked like their spirits had left their bodies, defeat oozing through their pores as they reined their horses lifelessly. Others seemed to be on the brink of death, or otherwise badly injured. Some of them were missing limbs, or were bandaged, red blood staining their white cloths. I watched as one soldier missing an arm was carried on a stretcher. His pained expression was looking towards the sky, avoiding the crowd of people. Murmurs erupted throughout the assembly.

 

“Are those the only ones who made it back?”

 

“Looks like a massacre this time...”

 

“Even though one hundred of them set out on the survey, there are less than twenty people here. Did the rest get eaten?”

 

“WHERE IS MY SON?” A shriek sounded through the mass of people, and the crowd went quiet. An elderly woman ran up to the Commander of the Survey Corps, Keith Shadis.

“Excuse me, my son. I don’t see my son Braun here!” she kneeled at his feet. her limp gown trailing uselessly in the dirt.

 

“It’s Braun’s mother.” a fair-headed soldier nodded to the distressed-looking Commander. A female soldier handed him a wrapped item, and he passed it tenderly to the kneeling woman.

“Eh?” her words were dry and disbelieving as she opened the cloth. I had watched in horror when I realised that it was a severed appendage. She burst into tears and clutched the hand to her chest furiously, rocking back at forth.

 

“That’s all we were able to get back. That’s all.”

Trying to compose herself, she asked Shadis pointedly, “But my son...was useful to you, wasn’t he? Even if he didn’t achieve anything directly, his death brought humanity one step closer to beating them back, right?”

 

“Ofcourse” Shadis started, and even I could tell he was trying to convince himself of his own words. What an insult to the mother, I thought. Why lie?

 

“No...” he changed his tune, tears rolling down his cheeks, “Our survey this time...this time too...we accomplished nothing. Because of my incompetence! All I did was get my soldiers killed! WE DIDN’T GET ANY CLOSER TO FINDING OUT WHAT THESE THINGS REALLY ARE!”

 

I regarded the situation impassively. In time, she would be grateful for the truth, I thought, even if a lie would be more comforting. The murmurs started again.

 

“That’s just awful.”

“If only they’d stayed safe and sound. Soldiers are nothing but a waste of our taxes. It’s ridiculous. Our taxes are being used to fatten up those bastards by providing them with snacks.” a man in front of me complained loudly.

 

The boy next to me huffed in annoyance and pelted a stone at his head.

 

“What do you think you’re doing, you little shit?” he bellowed, fast on the heels of the strange-looking girl who had started dragging him hurriedly through the crowd. I had to resist the urge to laugh. He seemed amusing. 

The crowd started to dissipate and I took that as a cue to leave. The sun was forming pumpkin soup in the sky and it was fast approaching twilight when I arrived at the orphanage. It was dinner time, and the mess hall was full of chatter. 

 

“Oh Elita, late again!” Ms. Klara had exclaimed upon my arrival. “Hurry up and grab a bowl before the food gets cold.”

 

I was halfway through my porridge when I felt the ground shake. Thinking that I’d imagined it, I looked up to equally confused faces.

“Hey Hans, did you feel that?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Maybe it’s an earth tremor.”

 

After a while, everyone returned to normal and I began to retreat to my room. I was just about to take a nap when a maid burst open my door, her face rapt with worry. 

 

“Word has reached the southern Shiganishina gate has been breached by titans! Hurry up and join the others in the mess hall, we’re leaving!”

 

“What?” My mind went blank in disbelief, my body refusing to move itself from the bed.

 

“Get up!” she gave me a shove before leaving. 

 

Hurriedly, I packed my few belongings into my bindle and went to the dinning hall. I caught up to the quickly retreating backs of the other children, spearheaded by Ms. Klara. We had been put into small groups, each escorted by an orphanage lady. The children, like me, were pale with fright. When everyone had gathered, we began to move. Crying and the hurried footsteps was all that could be heard in the still air. Thankfully, the orphanage was a significant enough geographic distance away from the Shiganshina Gate. Being situated in the close to the centre, we had less distance to cover than citizenry father away from Wall Rose. Or at least, I told myself this in an effort to comfort my sanity. We had been walking for several minutes when we arrived at the city centre. Then I saw it in the distance. A titan. We had been taught in school that the walls were approximately fifty meters in height. How then, was I able to see a titan’s head peeking over it? It was impossible. Even the biggest titans were less than fifteen meters tall. I took in the look of the titan. I was simultaneously frightened and fascinated, and I had to take deep breaths to calm my rapidly increasing heartbeat. It didn’t look like the titans in the history books. Despite its obvious towering and gargantuan frame, it had fragmented layers of skin stretched over smooth muscle. Its large buccal cavity was exposed stupidly and its beady eyes glinted with malice as steam emanated from its body. It was what I image a human would look like if you had mutilated it severely and removed its outermost layer.

 

I tugged Ms. Klara’s skirt uselessly, my hand trembling the fabric of her dress, “Madame..d-do you se-see that?”

By the way she tried to mask the frightened look on her face, I knew she had. All of us had. If the wall had been breached, it wouldn’t be long before Shiganshina was pervaded by titans. Many people would die. We would most likely die if we didn’t make it in time to Wall Rose. 

 

“Children, we are heading towards the boats! Ran as quickly as possible and never leave your group mother!” she said as we tried to navigate the stampede of people running for their lives. I watched as Survey Corps soldiers rushed past us in the opposite direction, their faces wrought with panic. Their numbers had been dwindled so severely in the recent expedition, surely the remaining few weren’t going to attempt to fight off the titans? How brave and foolish, I had thought. Or possibly just foolish. Bravery by far was the kindest word for stupidity. Keith Shadis was leading his men to their deaths.  
It had felt like an eternity before we got to the docks. One of the boats was already moored and quickly approaching its carrying capacity. It felt like ages before we could get to the front of the crowd. I had lost sight of some of the other orphans. 

“WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST!” a Garrison soldier shouted.

 

“Please sir,” Ms. Klara pleaded, “Let these children in.”

 

The Garrison soldier sighed sheepishly, “Hurry up. The boat is about to full.”

 

Fervently, she began ushering the children into the boat. Lastly, she escorted me, holding me back for a while. I studied her in confusion as she dug into her pocket and pulled out a book, “This was the book I found with you when you were a child.” she said darkly, “I would urge you to not discuss its contents with other people...unless you want to get into trouble with the government.”

“Thank you.”I held the book tightly. Hopefully I survived to read it. I hopped on to the crowded boat and tried in vain to make space for Ms. Klara.

“THIS BOAT’S FULL. WE’RE DEPARTING!” Shouted the same Garrison soldier.

“No! Hurry up, Ms. Klara...before the boat leaves!”

 

She gave me a pained tight-lipped smile, “There’s no more space, dearie. I’ll try to make it aboard another one. You take care of yourself when you get to Rose and stay safe. I’ll see you there.”

 

“NO!” I screamed as the boat began to depart, clutching at the air as hot tears threatened to spill over my face. I saw her figure dwindle in the distance, next to a few other orphans and some maids.

A loud argument erupted on the mainland as we the as we left the dock, “IT’S TOO RISKY TO LEAVE IT OPEN ANY LONGER. CLOSE THE GATE!”

 

“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? THERE’S STILL PEOPLE INSIDE!”

 

“IF THIS GATE’S DESTROYED, IT WON’T JUST BE THE TOWN THAT’S INVADED BY TITANS! WHAT’S LEFT OF HUMAN TERRITORY WILL FALL BACK TO THE NEXT WALL!”

 

“THAT’S NO REASON TO ABANDON THE PEOPLE WHO ARE RIGHT IN FRONT OF US!”

 

“CLOSE THE GATE...HURRY! A TITAN IS CHARGING TOWARDS IT!”

 

“STOP IT....WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING? OUR WEAPON’S AREN’T WORKING!”

 

And then it happened. A titan, smaller than the one that had appeared in Shiganshina, but still significantly large, with an armoured body, broke through Wall Maria.

 

“It broke through wall Maria?” someone on the boat shrieked in disbelief.

It’s all over, I thought. Humanity was going to be devoured by the titans again. I’d never be able to go home again. As I stood there in the departing boat, my protests sank to the depths of my stomach and my resolve began to placate. For the first time, I got no stares or comments while I was on that boat, as we left a significant portion of humanity behind. It was then that I truly knew. This was bigger than everything. This was bigger than all of us. For the first time in a hundred years, on that day, the human race remembered - the terror of being dominated by them and the shame of being held captive in a birdcage.


End file.
